


In Laws

by Sarah1281



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 01:51:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4728311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah1281/pseuds/Sarah1281
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Blight Loghain and Alistair are stuck alone in a carriage together and all Alistair wants to do is mock Loghain's Orlesian paranoia. This was better than being eaten by the Archdemon, right? It was getting harder to convince himself of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Laws

It wasn't that Loghain was particularly unhappy about living through the Blight. As it happened, Riordan's insistence that his soul would be destroyed was a disconcerting one. It would be one thing if he had simply been killed but having his very soul destroyed? Aside from the fact that he had no idea how Riordan or the others would even know that, it wasn't something he had been looking forward to risking. He would have done it for Ferelden, of course, but the third option the marsh witch had suggested – while horribly mentally scarring – was one that he could live with. He just wished he could think of a way to break the news to Anora about her little demon brother or sister.

Speaking of Anora, Loghain was thrilled that she had managed to remain on the throne (and while he wasn't pleased when she'd thrown him under the proverbial carriage at the Landsmeet to guarantee that she would, he did understand) but much less so that it had required her to wed Maric's Grey Warden Templar reject of a bastard. He and Anora looked good together, admittedly, and Alistair seemed willing to take orders from his far-more-capable wife but he really had no business being on the throne and he'd need a miracle to convince the nobles otherwise.

Loghain was currently trapped in a carriage with his reluctant son-in-law on their way back to Denerim. Anora had been riding with them but she'd left the carriage some time ago and had yet to return, leaving her father and husband to sit in stony silence.

Finally, the silence became too much for the boy King – honestly, he was barely more than a teenager and had had no formal training – and so he cleared his throat loudly. "So."

Loghain ignored him. He had no particular fear of silence.

"Anora said that the First Warden wanted the 'Hero of Ferelden' to be the Warden-Commander Arlessa of Amaranthine. Since she's apparently too busy to do her duty, however, there has been talk of sending in an Orlesian Warden." It was remarkable, really, how every word Alistair spoke to him made it so und like the boy was accusing him of murdering babies. His bitter refusal to use the name of 'Hero of Ferelden' was also quite telling. His attempts to goad him by bringing up the Orlesians was quit predictable. Contrary to popular opinion, while hearing an Orlesian accent still made him twitch, Loghain was perfectly capable of hearing about the subject without flying into a rage.

"It's kind of sad, isn't it?" Alistair continued, undeterred by the lack of response his words were causing. "That despite being one of only a handful of Wardens who ended the Blight, they would rather cause problems by sending in an Orlesian than entrust the Arling to you."

"Anora won't just hand over the title of Arl or Arlessa to any Orlesian who managed to survive imbibing darkspawn blood," Loghain spoke up finally. "She has been taught better than that."

Triumph flashed momentarily in Alistair's eyes as he finally managed to force Loghain into speaking. "That is true," he admitted. "She told the First Warden that if he insists that we need an Orlesian Warden to be the Warden-Commander as there aren't enough Wardens in Ferelden then they have no business sending you to Orlais. She also reminded him that he wants an Arling far more than she wants to give the Grey Wardens one and we've yet to hear back from him."

Anora was always interfering on his behalf, it seemed. It was sweet, he supposed, but he would really rather she not go through so much inconvenience on his behalf. "Anora knows what she's doing."

"I suppose one of you has to," Alistair said blithely. "I can understand her concerns, of course. Why, just imagine! Any one of them might be an Orlesian spy."

"The people of Orlais are far more likely to be Orlesian spies than they are to be spies from different nations," Loghain agreed curtly.

"Like Riordan," Alistair continued. "That was why he was locked up and tortured for all those months, right?"

"You do remember that you found him in Howe's dungeon, not mine, don't you?" Loghain asked tiredly.

"I do," Alistair conceded. "But you know what else I remember? I remember that Howe was your ally and Riordan saying something about how he was given an offer of hospitality and a poisoned chalice which he accepted as he didn't think you knew who he was."

"You honestly don't have enough to blame me for that now you have to start in on me about Howe's actions?" Loghain demanded. "What's next? Blaming me for the fact that your friend wouldn't kill me to indulge you?"

"I suppose I can't blame you for her actions," Alistair said, looking very much as if he would love to do just that. "But you not only tolerated Howe's actions but you rewarded them by handing out new titles for him."

"I was rather more concerned with dealing with the darkspawn, the Orlesians, and the civil war than with the particulars of Howe's internal affairs," Loghain said stiffly.

"Well, your mistake, huh?" Alistair asked rhetorically. "And yes, those damnable Orlesians. I've been thinking about it and I really think you were right about Riordan being an Orlesian spy. First there was the fact he was far too arrogant to try and hide his accent. Very insidious. And then, of course, there's the fact that he tried to lull you into a false sense of security by letting you capture him so easily and hold him for months."

"Don't be absurd; I don't think he just let Howe imprison him," Loghain retorted.

"But…but he escaped so easily when he had a mind to," Alistair protested innocently. "And then there is the fact that, as far as I know, he never actually told you any relevant information until the last minute. Clearly, he was hoping that by revealing information that you and her wouldn't have known at all if it weren't for him so late in the game that he could sabotage your efforts better than if he had simply never shown up at all. And don't even get me started on his sabotage during the final battle…"

Loghain knew he probably didn't want to know. He asked anyway. "What 'sabotage'? While I can't deny that Riordan's leap off of a roof and onto the Archdemon's back was incredibly reckless, it also wounded the Archdemon enough so that it had to land and allowed us to kill it on the top of Fort Drakon."

"Well, the wounding was probably an accident," Alistair decided. "He was just trying to get himself killed without making it obvious what he was doing so that he could further sabotage your attempt to stop the Blight."

"While his aid was frankly minimal at times, we were still better off with him here than if he had never bothered to show up," Loghain argued. "Meaning that his 'sabotage' was counterproductive. Honestly, you cannot possibly think that that is an accurate reflection of my concerns about the Orlesians."

"Who said anything about you?" Alistair asked with a rather stupid expression on his face. He really was quite good at that. Sometimes it disturbed Loghain to see just how good at it he was. "You really are paranoid, aren't you?"

At that moment, Loghain desired nothing more than to be rid of his infuriating son-in-law but he was not about to be chased out of the carriage by Maric's royal bastard and so he stayed exactly where he was, hating every minute of it.

They relapsed into silence waiting for Anora to come back.


End file.
